


Even In Our Most Beautiful Days, It's Dark

by TooGoodToBeBad



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Battle of the Great Bridge of Myrddin (Fire Emblem), Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Marianne is a Blue Lion, Minor Ferdinand von Aegir/Dorothea Arnault, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), So is Dorothea, but nothing too graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26214493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooGoodToBeBad/pseuds/TooGoodToBeBad
Summary: At the Great Bridge of Myrddin, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester is resigned to his fate, but Marianne can't sit back and watch him die.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir & Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, Marianne von Edmund/Lorenz Hellman Gloucester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	Even In Our Most Beautiful Days, It's Dark

It was too beautiful a day to die.

The Lone Moon was coming to an end, and the chilling embrace of winter was now leaving them, to be replaced by the gentle caress of springtime. The flowers were beginning to grow again, ready to bask in the radiance of a new world. He hated that he wouldn’t be able to see them blossom, but these things happened.

The sound of horseshoes against dirt pounded in his ears like a war drum as he rode up to his companion. Clad in gilded violet armor, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester turned his head to the man beside him, a grim expression on his face.

“I take it you’ve heard the news, then,” Ferdinand von Aegir said as he beamed at his friend with a smile that was utterly devoid of mirth.

“Indeed I have,” he replied darkly. “An army of the living, led by a couple of ghosts, back from the dead and no doubt hungry for revenge.”

Ferdinand nodded at that. “The Kingdom comes.”

“So it would seem.”

The Imperial noble drummed his fingers absent-mindedly against the breastplate of his blood-red armor. “I’m starting to think we may have picked the wrong side in this war.”

Lorenz could feel his tongue begin to dry up and a dark and heavy weight press down on his shoulders. “Do not speak such nonsense, Ferdinand,” he scolded. “The reports clearly state that this is not the full might of Faerghus. This is a rag-tag group of rebels who march under the command of a mad prince.”

Ferdinand did not meet his gaze. “But they have the Professor. If that is not a sign from the Goddess herself, then I’m afraid I shall never know a real one when I see it.”

He could feel it in his bones that Ferdinand was right. The Professor had proven on more than one occasion that there was more to her than met the eye. The wide-eyed girl was plucked from seemingly out of nowhere to teach at the Officer’s Academy five years ago, and she wielded the most sacred of weapons against her foes. She’d even come back from being transported to another plane of existence (if the rumors were to be believed). She was the physical embodiment of divine intervention.

“I suppose,” Ferdinand broke the silence, his voice uncharacteristically small as he stared off into the distance, “that today would be a beautiful day to die.”

“At least it’s springtime,” Lorenz agreed somberly. “We could be buried in a field of flowers, somewhere nice and bright and sunny.”

A sad chuckle escaped from Ferdinand’s lips. “You know, if I’d known that I’d be dying today, I’d have brewed my Hresvelg Blend for tea time a while ago.”

He turned to his companion, purple eyes narrowing. “If I may pry, what occasion were you saving the leaves for?”

Ferdinand offered him another smile, although this one did not reach his eyes, which were vibrantly melancholic. “In case I ever found her again. She…” his voice trailed off under the threat of breaking. “She wasn’t in Enbarr - I tried to find her, but I couldn’t. Not in the Opera, not in the Palace. Nowhere.”

“Do you think she’s returned to the Professor’s side? Do you think she marches with the Lions today?”

“In a strange way, I hope she does. I suppose it would be nice to be able to say goodbye.”

The harsh and sharp tone of a war horn cut through their companionable silence. The Kingdom was here.

“So it begins, my friend,” Ferdinand turned to him, and his smile faded into a stoic frown. “I’ll see you on the other side,” he raised his forearm towards his companion. 

“May the goddess be good to us, in this life and in the next,” Lorenz replied grimly as he bumped his forearm against Ferdinand’s, the crash of armor on armor creating a dull thud that rang through the air. The Adrestian nodded at his words, letting the finality of it all hang between them as he turned and rode off to his position. 

Lorenz watched him ride off, with his head held high and unafraid to die. He shook his head gloomily before bringing his own horse to a trot as he marched to his own position. For a moment, he allowed himself to wonder what would happen to his soul once he was killed on the bridge.

* * *

Few things could break his concentration on the battlefield. Even when the wyverns and the pegasi waged war in a violent and twisted dance in the sky above him and bodies fell like stars from the sky, he did not falter. Even when the acrid stench of blood and violence forced its way into his lungs until he was breathing death itself, he did not falter. Even when he stepped over twisted corpses and anguished faces, cutting down foes mercilessly while their screams of agony rang through his ears, he did not falter.

But seeing her was a different story altogether. When his vision was graced by that shock of light blue hair, he faltered.

A thousand memories raced through his mind at once, each clawing for attention that was better spent on the battlefield. Memories of meals eaten in peace, of tea-times filled with pleasant conversation, of riding sessions where he could see her come out of her shell and be excited for something, of when she’d pulled him aside and said she was transferring houses and she said she'd understand if he hated her for it, of when he told her he could never find it in his heart to hate her and how he was proud of her and wished her the best with the Lions, of the way she smiled at him when they danced at the Ball that left him weak at the knees and unable to breathe while the world spun around him, of the tearful goodbye when she pulled him close to her in a tight embrace as Garreg Mach crumbled under the weight of war, of how he melted in her arms and wished he didn’t have to leave-

He shut his eyes tightly and attempted to blink away the memories. With his heart in his throat, he called out to her. “Marianne.”

Her brown eyes widened in recognition when she saw him, and despite the unmistakably appalling circumstances they both found themselves in, her eyes were still as gentle as ever. “Lorenz? Is that really you?”

Goddess, it hurt his heart to see her like this. In the five years since Garreg Mach, she’d grown into someone who was unafraid to take on every hardship the world threw at her, someone who was determined to survive. It was reflected in her face and her demeanor, and she’d only grown more beautiful during the years they were apart. A ball of nervous energy was settling into the pit of his stomach, and his hands began to shake.

He tried to smile at her. “The one and only, in the flesh. I must say, you look well.”

Her next four words would break him. “Why are you here?”

He deflated with a long sigh before meeting her gaze. “I do not wish to hurt you, Marianne. No, I will not hurt you, I give you my word. But I need you to step aside.”

She shook her head defiantly. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Lorenz. What are you doing here, fighting for the Empire?” she asked with a tiny voice.

His throat tightened around the words he wanted to say, and the gloominess he tried so hard to take from her eyes was slowly returning to her. “It’s not too late, you know,” she continued. “You and Ferdinand, you could, just maybe-”

“We both know I can’t do that,” he muttered, and her face fell. “I have made my bed, and now I shall lie in it. Besides,” he added with a despondent smile, “I highly doubt the Professor would have much tolerance for traitors such as myself.”

“Traitor? No, you’re our friend! You can still-”

“Please, Marianne, that is quite enough. Believe me, I am beyond overjoyed to see that you are well, and I wish with all my heart that we could have met under happier circumstances. But please, get out of my way.”

“But I can’t let you die here,” she pleaded with him, and he forced himself to keep her gaze, despite how it broke him inside to see her so sad.

The sound of another rider joining their conversation forced him to break his gaze. He turned his steely eyes to their newest companion, who still wore the same stupid smirk he wore back in the Academy. “Gautier,” he nodded curtly.

“Gloucester,” Sylvain nodded back. “Long time no see, my friend.”

“All of this pains me, you know. I wish I could say I was happy to see you safe and sound.”

“Likewise,” Sylvain replied, and the carefree smile twisted into a tight frown. “Now are you going to step aside or am I going to have to make you?”

Lorenz snarled at the threat. “If you believe I intend to go down without a fight, then you are sorely mistaken,” he twirled Thyrsus in his hands menacingly to punctuate his words. 

Sylvain brushed a loose strand of red hair out of his eyes before raising the Lance of Ruin and brandishing it. Even from where he stood, Lorenz could see the blood dripping from the grotesque weapon. “I don’t want to kill you, Lorenz,” Sylvain glowered at him with bitterness in his eyes. “But I will if I have to. Don’t tell me you’re willing to throw your life away for some misplaced sense of duty.”

That got a cold laugh out of him. “I assure you, my sense of duty is not misplaced. I chose to be here, and I have no one to blame for my choices but myself.”

“It would seem we are at an impasse, then.”

Lorenz cracked a smile at that and studied both Sylvainn and Marianne warily. “You and I, we were once the same, you know. Maybe even today, we still are. I suspect that even right now, we stand on opposite sides for the same reasons.”

“Care to enlighten me on that?”

“Duty,” he said simply, and Sylvain only nodded at that. “I have a duty to House Gloucester to protect this bridge, and you have a duty to both the prince and the Professor to take this bridge from us. I most certainly don’t _want_ to be here. Do any of us?”

Both Sylvain and Marianne shook their heads sadly at him. “You know,” Sylvain started. “If you’re not interested in dying today, you could join us. We could use someone as capable as you on our side.”

“You and I both know it’s not that simple, Sylvain.”

“Well, it was worth a shot,” he gave him a bright smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Damn shame, too - I’d hate to have to kill a classmate.”

“Likewise.”

Sylvain brandished the hateful weapon again. “Shall we get to it, then?”

Despite the distance between them, Lorenz prepared his energy, and began to channel the power of Thyrsus. He looked coldly at Sylvain, and the ice in his heart melted and thawed into springwater when he turned to Marianne. He could feel once more that his steely determination was beginning to waver. “Could I say one last thing?”

On top of his armored steed, Sylvain only shrugged. “I’ll grant you this courtesy as a former friend, but make it quick.”

He met her eyes one last time. Within himself, he fought to keep his voice steady and even for her. He had to be strong for this. “Dear Marianne, if you can, please avert your gaze. No matter how this ends, I’d hate for you to see the outcome. Could you do that for me, please?”

Her posture stiffened, and her shoulders tensed some more. “Oh, Lorenz, you know I can’t do that. I wish I could, but I can’t.”

“Could you be strong, then?” he asked gently.

A surprised expression flickered on her face for a moment, and she paused to consider her words. “I think I can.”

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” he called out while feeling the power of Thyrsus coursing through his veins and settling in his bones. “Remember me for how I lived, Marianne, and not how I died,” he proclaimed to her before staring once more at Sylvain. “Now, Gautier, let’s wage war.”

The familiar crackle of energy was now at his fingertips. Wisps of power flitted around his hand before joining into a massive fireball that spun in place above his palm with a frantic energy. A flick of the wrist sent it hurtling in Sylvain’s direction, but the knight dodged it with ease. Sylvain and his steed were now barreling towards him, eager to close the distance and cut off Lorenz’s advantage. Another blast of fire came Sylvain’s way, but he was unable to dodge completely, and the magic glanced off his shoulder plate. In his hands, the Lance of Ruin started to glow with an angry red light.

The next few moments rushed past him in a blur of energy and pain. He vaguely remembered dodging the first strike, and the rush of power through his bloodstream as he attempted to cast Ragnarok. The sound of a dull crunch pierced his ears, and he could feel a trembling ache in his stomach. He hesitantly glanced downwards and saw the Lance of Ruin embedded in his armor and leaving jagged skin and broken metal in its wake. 

“I’m sorry,” Sylvain mouthed to him, and Lorenz felt himself gasping for air as he crashed to the stone floor with an unmajestic thud. So this is how it felt to die.

The metallic tang of blood filled the air, and he vainly pressed his hands against his wound. He felt his eyelids getting heavier now, and someone around him screamed his name like a hopeless prayer. The sweet release of peace was calling to him, calm and serene like the gentle song of a brook. The fragrant scent of roses filled his aching lungs, and he forced himself to open his eyes, if only to see the world one last time. 

The last thing he saw was Marianne’s tear-stricken face as she held him close to her heart, ready to welcome him into the afterlife.

* * *

He didn’t quite know what he was expecting the afterlife to look like. Maybe a nice garden in full bloom, or a mountaintop from which he could see the whole world, or a beautiful beach, with gentle waves and fine sand between his toes. He wasn’t expecting it to look like the infirmary of Garreg Mach. Nor did he expect the Goddess to look like Mercedes von Martritz.

“Ohh, Lorenz, you’re alive after all,” she greeted him with a cheery smile.

His tongue felt like sandpaper in his mouth, and his throat felt like it was coated in ash. “Alive?” he repeated dumbly, as if it was the first time he’d ever heard the word. As fate would have it, he was most certainly not yet dead.

“Mmhmm, alive,” she repeated in a patient tone.

“But… but why?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, clearly not expecting the question. “Why? Well, I don’t believe it’s my place to say.”

He only nodded at that. It had been an odd question, now that he thought about it, but these were odd circumstances.

“I’ll just have to double check a few things with you,” she continued. “And if all is well, we can move you back to your old room. The monastery’s in rough shape right now, but I believe your dorm should still be serviceable. I’ll have someone escort you there later.”

A quick glance at the ugly scar on his abdomen and a few quick questions (“How’s your head? Could you wiggle your finger, please? Any rashes or swelling?”) were enough for Mercedes to determine that he could be transferred to his dorm. After a short walk alongside two armed escorts, Lorenz found himself back in familiar surroundings. Strangely enough, the few belongings he’d brought with him to the bridge were also in his room (they must have found his tent and pack horse after the battle).

He gingerly lifted his shirt to look at the scar that used to be an angry gash where his soul was nearly ripped from his body. He still hadn’t received an answer about why he was kept alive in the first place, and for a moment, he wondered if this uneasy hospitality was being extended to Ferdinand as well. 

A soft knock at his door distracted him from his thoughts. He hesitantly rose, unsure of who he would find at the other side. Ferdinand, perhaps? The Professor? Goddess forbid, it might even be Sylvain, back to finish the job. 

A soft and gentle voice called out to him from the other side of the door. “Lorenz, are you there?”

 _Marianne von Edmund_.

“If it’s okay with you, I brought tea. It’s Bergamot,” she continued. “I just… I wanted to see you.”

With quivering hands, he twisted the doorknob and opened the door. Once again, his vision was graced by the sight of her holding a tray with some tea, although she was not alone. A former classmate he recognized as Ashe stood beside her, his fingers twitching as they rested on the hilt of a dagger. 

“Marianne,” he said shakily. “Please, do come in. I apologize for the mess, but I haven’t exactly been here long.”

That drew out a little giggle from her as she made her way inside, and it caused his stomach to do a little flip. It was a sound he hadn’t realized he’d missed so much. “Will your friend Ashe be joining us for tea?” he asked, sparing the Blue Lion behind her a furtive glance.

“Oh, no, he won’t. He was just sent along to make sure you didn’t hurt me. I tried to say that it wasn’t necessary, but they were quite insistent about it.”

“Oh, no, I quite understand,” he said to her before glancing again towards Ashe. “You have my word - I will not harm her.”

Ashe’s green eyes narrowed at him, but he nodded at that and closed the door. A sigh of relief escaped Lorenz’s lungs, and he quickly turned back to her and helped her set everything up. They drank in companionable silence for a bit, as he found himself at a loss for words. He had so many questions, and if anyone could answer them, it was probably her.

“Marianne,” he said softly after finishing his tea. “Forgive me, but I have so many questions I wish to ask you.”

Her soft brown eyes met his. “I’m sure you do, Lorenz. I’ll try my best to answer them.”

“Why am I still alive?”

She nodded gracefully, as if she expected this question. “I healed you. Mercedes and Flayn helped, too. After your battle with Sylvain, I tried my best to fix you as much as I could so you could be safely brought back.”

“Believe me, I am far from ungrateful right now, Marianne. But _why_ am I still alive? Do the Blue Lions intend to ransom me back to my House? Am I to be executed and made an example of? Do they plan on interrogating me for intelligence?” 

“Nothing of the sort, no. It’s just… right now, you’re alive because I fought to keep you alive.”

His words were stolen from him as he tried to make sense of this new revelation. His heart was now twisting itself into knots, and he desperately tried to remember if the dorm windows opened so he could get some fresh air, since it suddenly became very difficult to breathe. “Marianne, I was ready to die.”

“Don’t say things like that,” she said softly. “You didn’t see what happened to Ferdinand.”

Lorenz could feel his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

She nodded sadly. “You didn’t see what it did to Dorothea, either. She saw it all happen; she pleaded with him not to throw his life away, to come back to her. But Dimitri, she couldn’t stop Dimitri, nor could she stop Ferdinand from charging at the prince. We hardly recognized his body. Now she just stands by the pond and pushes everyone away. It completely shattered her to see him like that. For now, all that’s left is an empty shell of her former self.”

That sent another stab of pain through his heart. Hopelessly idealistic Ferdinand never stopped looking for her, only for fate to reunite them for a split second before tearing them apart forever. Still, Ferdinand went down fighting for what he believed in, which was more than can be said for him. “Marianne,” his voice broke into a hushed whisper. “Ferdinand and I, we made our choices.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier for those left behind.”

“Please, Marianne,” he almost wanted to laugh at that. “These people, I am not their friend, and they have good reason to distrust me. I highly doubt any of them would be all too torn up about my death,” he muttered drily.

There was an uneasy lull in the conversation, and an expression he couldn’t quite read flickered on Marianne’s face for a moment. “You know that’s not true, Lorenz,” she breathed softly. “I would be.”

A surprised gasp escaped him, and he studied her eyes warily, only to find sincerity written in them. “Marianne,” he stuttered. “I-I-I…”

“You know that you’re my friend, right?”

He gulped nervously. “Of course, Marianne.”

“I cared about you once,” she offered him a tiny smile. “And I think I always will. I’d never forgive myself if I let you die. In your own little way, Lorenz, you taught me how to live. I know the kind of man you are, and I’m just happy I could save your life, much like you saved mine.”

In the confines of his ribcage, his heart began to thump so loudly it threatened to drown out his own words. “Marianne, I am beyond grateful for your kindness. Truly, I could never hope to adequately repay you for-”

“No,” she said firmly.

“N-no? I beg your pardon, but what do you mean?”

“No debts.”

He only nodded slowly at that. “No debts.”

Another subtle smile graced her lips. “Friends are kind to each other without expecting anything in return. There’s no need to talk about returning favors, or anything of that sort.”

Lorenz returned the smile to her as another easygoing silence filled the room. Still, there was so much more he wanted to say to her. How he’d missed her, how he would look at the night sky and wonder if she was safe, how-

“What’s next for me, then?” he blurted out rather suddenly in an effort to redirect his thoughts to the situation at hand. “Am I… free to leave once I’ve recovered?”

“I’ve spoken to the Professor about it. Once you’re fully recovered, you’re free to go. You could go home, or you could stay and join us. Either way, the choice is yours; you are not here as a prisoner, but as a guest.”

It took awhile for him to find his next words. “If I return home, is there any chance - could you, perhaps - would you come with me?”

She smiled again, and it sent a shiver down his spine. “I wish I could, but I can’t leave yet. I have to see this war through to its end. But if you choose to leave, then I promise you, I’ll visit when this is all over.” 

The gentle toll of a church bell invaded the room like an unwelcome guest. “I do apologize, Lorenz, but I must cut this meeting short,” she murmured as she began to pack away the teaware. “But you don’t have to make a decision right away.”

With his usual grace, he rose from his chair and helped her to the door. His fingers lingered on the doorknob for just a bit, and he turned to her one more time. “Marianne, really, thank you for everything.”

Another smile. They seemed to come so easily now to her, and he could only hope there would be more coming his way soon. “You’re welcome, Lorenz. Please do think about it, and just choose what will make you happiest.”

As he opened the door and she made her graceful exit, his mind was already made up - he already knew where he’d be happiest.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! Thanks for reading!
> 
> This might have been my longest single chapter work so far. That's quite a lot of words. 
> 
> This was a new pairing for me, so I hope it reads alright, since I'm less familiar with their dynamic than other pairs. Still, it's nice to challenge myself and try new things, so I'm glad I took the time to write this.
> 
> I also struggled a bit with writing the battle scene, but I hope it read alright and it wasn't lame or anything like that.
> 
> Sorry, Ferdinand.
> 
> As always, feedback and comments are appreciated! I hope you guys enjoyed this!


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